The gestalt game erupts! Though Vivi classifies it as “us vs. a horde of stuff”, the DM reminds the group that the goblin horde is trapped outside the portcullis, but the bone golem is in their midst!

Vivi: I’m uselessly poking at a golem I cannot even hope to damage.
Hjalmar: I’ve got one more Acid Burst, and I’m probably going to roll low and not hit.

The DM implements a rule they often forget: you can’t reduce damage below 1. Krackus bemoans the loss of his dice, and wishes for a set of metal gay elven dice… then contemplates being a bad person.

Krackus: I need to look up all the derogatory name for races in this game, so I can be an ignorant racist asshole in-game as well.
Tam: You can just make ‘em up, you know.
Krackus: It’s no fun unless I’m using the official terms.
Tam: So long as you put the appropriate amount of bigotry behind it.
Krackus: Unless there are no official terms, then I can make them up.

The group debates the merits of the copper dice Timorell loans to their missing player (to aid his cheating ways). They reroll initiative, because no one remembers it anyway, and prepare to engage the golen.

Hjalmar: Elf: knife-ear, flower-muncher, herbivore.
Tam: Flower-muncher?!
Hjalmar: Dwarf: Rock-eaters, rock for brains, beard eaters. Halfling: gnome. Gnome: halfling.

Everyone likes that one. Krackus complains that human ones should just be taken from real life. The DM briefly forgets Krackus’s character name.

DM: …Krunk?
Krackus: You’re – you’re barking up the right tree….
DM: I know it’s something like that.
Tam: Cruruck.
Krackus: Krackus!
DM: I was close…
Hjalmar: I like Krunk.

Vivi is renamed Dee-dee, then BB-8, for no reason. Krackus questions who the nerds of D&D are, ignoring the chorus of ‘elves’ from the rest of the group.

Krackus: Class-wise.
DM: Wizards.
Hjalmar: Yeah, wizards are the big nerds.
Krackus: Which is the highest – because there’s lots of branches of wizards. Which is the highest, most epic nerd of the nerds?
Hjalmar: Alchemists?
Timorell and Tam: Artificers.
DM: I feel picked-on…
Krackus: That’s my next character! I’m going to be a pure jock fighter, even to his allies he’s a douche.
Hjalmar: ‘Oh hey bro. See you’re having a hard time lifting your rucksack today. Lemme get that for ya.’

Vivi is banned from Dexter’s laboratory, which apparently gives him trouble…

Vivi: Um, I think I need to change out my respertoire to a new set.
DM: You change your respirator, you can now breathe… clearly… I guess.
Vivi: Respertoire! Not respirator!
Timorell: Repertoire!
DM: Yeah, what the hell’s a respertoire!?
Vivi: I want to change my readied skills!
Timorell: You mean your maneuvers?
Vivi: Yes!

Lusiphur, still imprisoned in the bone cage, attempts to escape and fails. Some debate over whether or not conjured acid provokes spell resistance ensues; the DM concludes it does not. Timorell whomps on the golem, though almost all of her damage is warded away. Acid flies into the fray! Tam has Ohn attack!

Tam: Does a 23 hit this bastard?
DM: Hmm. (rolling) Yes!
Tam: What was the roll for?! You don’t roll for armor class!
DM: You hit it!
Tam: Is it like phased dimensional-shifting or something?
DM: You hit it!

People continue to attack, and the DM rolls dice every time before telling them they if they hit or not. Tam takes a deep breath.

Tam: …it’s very stressful.

Hjalmar complains about his Headband of Intellect, which looks like filth, but the golem focuses entirely on Hjalmar.

DM: One massive fist descends upon you!
Hjalmar: I wild surge for two!

A long silence.

DM: What are you wild surging for?
Hjalmar: I don’t know. Catfall.
DM: Now to be fair, Hjalmar, because of surging euphoria, which grants you bonuses on things like… touch AC, I think? It is legitimate to wild surge on a power that does nothing for the situation specifically to get the bonuses from surging euphoria.

The group is alternately impressed and disturbed by the DM’s rules chicanery. Hjalmar claims a 33 doesn’t hit him, but can’t keep his straight face for long. The second strike misses him, then he gets bitten.

Vivi: Can I get up to him with a normal move action?
DM: Yes, but it might prove perilous!
Krackus: He has reach, so you might incur an attack of opportunity?
DM: Damn it.
Krackus: What, that was his Christmas present? I’m sorry. Did I give away another Christmas present?
DM: Yeah, mine to myself!
Krackus: Thank you for telling me that, it makes it better. (making slurping noises)
DM: Stop drinking my pain!
Krackus: It’s delicious!
DM: My pain is a slushy, you have to get a fork…

Lusiphur rolls a natural 20, and is absolutely furious that the cage keeps him locked down because the golem is rolling spectacularly. Vivi takes a swing but misses, while the casters look at their debuffs and bemoan having them against a golem. Not much is done!

Hjamlar: His BONER exterior!

Silence. Timorell hits, Hjamlar lobs acid and takes a 5’ step, and Krackus sneezes and loses his turn because the DM is spiteful! Then he hurls acid, while Ohno and Tam move to act. The DM continues to roll every time they attack before announcing the results.

Tam: You don’t have to answer, but I feel like whatever you’re rolling is reducing the attack roll, is that why you keep rolling it?
DM: No.
Tam: Or are you – you serious – are you just like legit fucking with me?
DM: Yes, I’m just fucking with you. To be fair, you’re not the only one I’ve been fucking with. And I’ve been enjoying this.
Hjamlar: I gotta start writing better. “Immediate Magc.”
Tam: I know this has come up many many times before this group was even a thing, but if I just put a big boxing glove on the tip of an arrow—
DM: No!

The golem starts whomping on Hjalmar again, lands a blow, then critically fumbles and hits itself off of Hjamlar’s Force Screen, giving it a -2 on skill checks and saves.

Krackus: OH YES! Time to start throwing – oh that’s right, it’s immune to spells.

Hjamlar endures its bite, and then Vivi tosses his dagger away to Mountain Hammer the damn thing. Lusiphur still fails to escape, and resigns himself to living in the bone cage for the rest of his life. Timorell continues to do little damage.

DM: ‘We. Make. Holes in mage. We. Make. Holes in mage.’
Lusiphur: ‘Nya ha, I’ll give you a boner.’
DM: Booooooo. The goblin army outside lets out a hearty ‘Booooooooo!’ Are you saying ‘Boo’ or ‘Boosiphur’?
Hjamlar: I have Wall of Smoke. Is that any good? Probably not.
Krackus: So do I! I ought to look that up.

The nausea the wall offers isn’t great. The two mages launch acid at the golem, and Krackus’s cone of acid is enough to put down the golem. It collapses at last, leaving them only with flavor text.

DM: It seems silent in the courtyard, but only after a moment do you realize it is not at all. The tumult of the goblin army still outside washes over you, a reminder that it’s there, but you tuned it out during the frackas. Arrows whistle harmlessly into the courtyard, posing no meaningful threat to anyone. Soon enough they stop as well; the goblins realize they’re not killing you, and maybe they should save their ammo. Looking through the portcullis, you can see a number of them hanging on to it, occasionally trying to lift it but unable, and making threatening, menacing motions towards them.
Timorell: Heat Metal!

Lusiphur has Stockholm Syndrome from the bones. Krackus surveys the goblins, finding them still frenzied with bloodlust and two thousand in number.

Tam: We throw SweeTarts at the goblin horde.
DM: That’s all they wanted, they leave you in peace.

They search the golem. They find bones.

Vivi: Bones, hooray.
DM: You’re really making me stretch my storytelling muscles here.

Here they are, stuck in the keep, and wondering what to do about that fact. They consider their blood teleportation powers for an escape. Krackus has Detect Life, and senses out for anything weird – but finds nothing unusual, besides goblins. They become convinced a secret route out of the fortress must exist, and consider looking for it.

Hjamlar: I point to one of my goblin thralls, and say, “Yhu ther.”
DM: “Yes my lord?”
Hjamlar: “Hwhat cun we dew to kalm thez people down?”
DM: “I don’t know! I don’t know what got into them in the first place. It’s really weird and this isn’t normally like us goblins! We’re a very… sensible people.”
Hjamlar: “Uhv curse.”
DM: “There’s no profit in this, no gain, and in fact this is only going to piss off our king a great deal.”
Hjalmar: “Were there any othurs besides the two that we felled?”
DM: “What, of the big guys? No, they just sort of signed up. Showed up in the middle. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I’d even though of betraying you at that time. I was marching among them with nothing but thoughts of killing you and… these guys. But then as I got closer, something cleared my mind. I found myself realizing what horrible deed I was about to perpetrate on your person. My lord, I beg your forgiveness! I beg your forgiveness, and if you cannot grant forgiveness, grant me the honor of an honorable death!” He draws forth his sword.
Hjalmar: “Aye! No – none – no need for that.”
Vivi: “I don’t think we need, uh, that. Right now.”
Tam: Well, he needs a name now, with all the effort you put into that.
Hjalmar: Should I just walk up to the gate and see if I can quell the rest of them? My Thrallherd’s not THAT good… ‘The rest of you, follow me!’
Krackus: You can make an attempt, but there’s a lot. The ones in back are really bored now, because they can’t really move up, and the ones up front – some of them have fallen asleep, they tuckered themselves out.

Hjalmar steps up, while Lusiphur attempts to bribe them all somehow. The DM goes on a great quest for the Ruins of Empire book; it is epic in both scope and duration. The group ponders their next action – Tam proposes that the magic ought to wear off eventually, if magic indeed be what propels them. Hjalmar exposes himself to the goblins!

DM: At the sight of you, the goblins go into an even greater frenzy. A flurry of arrows goes through the portcullis, glancing off the iron bars and your force screen, none of them able to hit. The ones up front are just screaming, “Kill! Kill!” as they reach for you, as if by raw effort and willpower alone they could push through and sink their grubby little goblin claws into you, rend you limb from limb, and bring your pieces back to wherever they are commanded.
Vivi: It’s like they’re enthralled or something.

The DM reminds Hjalmar that the bone golem had spoken via Magic Mouth, and leads them on unproductive lines of discussion. Vivi expects that the goblins will chase them unto death even if they escape. The DM suggests that they could wait out the army in their fortified position.

Tam: They can’t just sit out there yelling, ‘Kill! Kill!’ for three weeks.

Krackus gets onto a weird tangent about the hydration needs of zombies, but Hjalmar cracks out some skills and powers to augment his presence and speak with the voice of 20 humans.

Hjalmar: I shout out, “Show yourself! Coward!”
DM: Your voice booms out, and reflects off of the other mountains you can see in the distance. The goblins are briefly cowed. From the pack, three of the ones in front abruptly begin screaming, “LORD HJALMAR! Take us, Lord Hjalmar! Save us, Lord Hjalmar!” This lasts of all of thirty seconds before the ones behind them butcher them mercilessly, gutting your newfound followers right in front of you.
Tam: Why did you do that?!
Hjalmar: Huh?
Krackus and Timorell: (bursting into laughter)
Hjalmar: Thank you.
DM: I’m taking that as an in-character question.
Tam: Yes! Well, it’s both!

The group ponders this twist, while Hjalmar’s paladin offers thoughts and the goblins inside whimper and prostrate themselves before Hjalmar. Then they wander off and start up a game of dice. Lusiphur goes to search the castle, and finds, to his surprise, a hidden nook behind a tapestry.

Tam: (bitterly) You did say there were tapestries everywhere.
DM: A single fang, twice yourself.
Hjalmar: That’s a pretty big item to hide behind a tapestry.
DM: Well, it’s long and narrow.
Hjalmar: I’m not saying it’s inconceivable. It’s just something you don’t usually find behind a tapestry.
DM: It’s in a nook. A niche.
Hjalmar: An alcove.
DM: A hidey-hole.
Tam: A cranny.
DM: It’s not an English muffin!
Hjalmar: A crenellation! That’s not the right word either.

Lusiphur drags the fang out and hauls it down the stairs, very noisily. This draws everyone’s attention, and they hurry to help. Hjalmar casts Detect Magic, and determines there are definitely magic auras in his spell’s AOE. Then he’s promptly overwhelmed by the strength of the magic aura; the fang proves to be immensely powerful, but he cannot detect a specific school of magic from it. They speculate on whether it is the source of the enchantment driving the goblins.

DM: “It’s our faith in the lord that has allowed us to survive it! Our pure and clean hearts are devoted purely to Lord Thrallmar! Long may he reign! Long may he toes grow!”
Hjalmar: Thrallmar!? “Hjamlar…”
DM: “Oh. Why did I subconsciously say Thrall?”

Somehow the fang rolls off and is stolen by the goblin army. Tam tries to use his sword on the fang.

DM: What is the property of your sword?
Hjalmar: It’s broken now.
Tam: It’s masterwork…
DM: Yes, you have half a sword now.
Lusiphur; I rolled a 20 for local history, is there like lore behind it?
DM: Congratulations, you know all about this local castle that is up in the middle of the mountains of the Five Peaks – no!
Lusiphur: I don’t have – well, there’s Gather Information.
DM: “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Hjalmar: There’s only a few people you could Gather from, and you pretty much know what we know.
DM: ‘Okay, give me 1d4 hours, guys.’ You come back later, find Lusiphur with one arm around the tooth, pouring some alcohol on it.

Krackus moves to put his hand on the fang; the DM calls for a Spellcraft roll. It resonates with Krackus somehow, though he struggles to figure out in what way, and the DM struggles to explain it.

Lusiphur: Congratulations, you are sexually attracted to this tooth.
DM: I said IMPERSONAL. That is the OPPOSITE of impersonal.
Krackus: “I feel like this is the real reason we came here. Or it is one really big trap.”
Vivi: “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was both at the same time.”

Krackus mends Tam’s sword with Mending, since the DM allows this to prevent loot destruction. Then he mocks the DM for his ruling, to the DM’s open bafflement. Somehow they get the idea to all touch it at the same time.

Lusiphur: Rub it.
Hjalmar: Nice long strokes.

Even the goblins and Mareth move forward to touch the tooth, and now the entire PC armada rings it. Krackus spends a while discussing the use of invisibility at will.

DM: You all touch the fang, and you know, you put so much drama and effort into it I wish that had been the answer.
Hjalmar: Hey, I thought we were writing the story. Do something, bitch.
DM: Uh, the fang animates. And it strikes you!
Krackus: I’ve decided. Our group is now a bunch of Warhammer 40K orcs, so our will can form anything. If we paint our shoes red, we can fly.
DM: I want you to all roll me a Charisma check?
Krackus: Is that a thing?

The group rolls!

Vivi: I got a 6.
DM: It – does not work for you, I’ll tell you that much right now. A six…
Vivi: Well, I’m disappointed. I guess I’m not in the Power Rangers.
DM: An ancient, raspy voice you would barely struggle to call female speaks from the fang. “Lord Hjalmar. Lady Timorell. I… serve….”

A long silence.

Hjalmar: “A ruen-on sentence.”

Silence.

DM: “My grammar… is not on trial here.”
Hjalmar: ‘WHOOOOM do you serve?!’
DM: “Ask. Your. Questions.”
Krackus: “Can you stop the army?”
Hjalmar: “Better yet, what is controlling their bloodlust?”

For some reason, the DM assured Hjalmar that the latter will skin him alive, before lapsing back into the voice for a proper answer.

DM: “Subversion.”

Hjalmar rolls Knowledge(arcana) and remembers it is a realm spell which can force an army unit to take an action. The fang tells them they are the masters of its power, and never mind the snarking.

Hjalmar: “Und who are yu?”
DM: It is silent! No answer forthcomes.
Hjalmar: “Who is casting this subversion spell?”
DM: It is silent! No answer forthcomes.
Hjalmar: It can only answer so many questions a day…
DM: It is silent! No answer forthcomes.

The group ponders the information they have gotten, and then Hjalmar suggests that Timorell can ask it questions as well. She asks who the fang is.

DM: “I am the Least Fang.”
Timorell: “Of?”
DM: “I will refrain from considering that your second question. There is no further answer. I am the Least Fang.”
Timorell: We wanted to know who was casting the subversion spell.
Hjalmar: Who ore where…
Timorell: “Do you know the location of the caster of this subversion spell?”
DM: “That exceeds my power to answer.”
Hjalmar: We have one more question. What should we ask?
DM: “A question I cannot answer is not a question.”
Hjalmar: Yay! Two more questions!

A roll tells them that Subversion requires a weak wizard at best, and will last a month. A little discussion about Birthright magic ensues, rapidly dissolving into an argument whether the DM is standing with a foot on his chair like Captain Morgan or Commander Riker. Tam looks for a forge to repair his sword, having missed the part where it was repaired.

Tam: Give a man a sword, he kills for a day. Teach a man to sword, and he kills for the rest of his life.

With more rolling, Hjalmar comes to suspect that his thrallherd powers were able to overcome the subversion spell on a couple – meaning the technique probably cannot use it on the whole army. The discussion gets…. Too weird to transcribe.

Tam: Managed to condense that hurricane down into a little fang. As distasteful as it would be to me to kill our way out of here, I can do it…

Lusiphur goes back to hunting a secret door with no success, while Hjalmar wonders how Mareth got here. She explains she was adventuring in the mountains, trying to deal with the lawlessness and evil in the realm.

Hjalmar: “Perhaps tugehther, with our new family, perhaps we can klean it uhp. The first stepping stone tovards the Iron Throne.”
DM: A gasp goes up from Mareth and the two goblins. “My lord’s ambition is great!” She immediately takes a knee before you, draws her sword, and holds it in front of her as if she is practically praying to you. The goblins, of course, have thrown themselves on the ground and have just started blubbering.

The DM oversells this for a while, to the point that Krackus wonders what this is vengeance for. Mareth suggests that this goblins, all from Thurazor, will surely provoke some sort of response from the local goblins and might meet with battle that will give the PCs a chance to escape. Then the DM calls for spot checks!

DM: Peering out, you see at the back what appears to be a palanquin! You can’t make out exactly who’s carrying it but whoever they are, they’re shoving through the goblin army – apparently unopposed.
Timorel: Looks like the goblins’ master has come to call.
Lusiphur: It’s about time.
Vivi: Suggested actions? I remember hearing that even if we do take him down, it won’t do anything.
Krackus: Is that like a banner?
Timorell: It’s like a litter.
DM: It’s what they carry important people on.
Hjalmar: It’s like a throne that has sticks.
DM: As it draws closer you can see the palanquin bears a flag upon it: the white flag with a cross upon it that is the symbol for parley.
Hjalmar: Ah, the great noble from the kingdom of Parley.
Krackus: “Hello!”
DM: The fang grows three inches into your eye.
Hjalmar: Yay!
Krackus: “You there, in the palanquin! Show yourself!”
DM: Well, the palanquin is not necessarily covered, and as they get closer you can see who’s sitting on it. An old and grizzled goblin.
Krackus: “I see the flag! You wish to talk?” I shout down.
DM: The goblin looks up at you, motions to the distance that still stands between you and the front gates.
Krackus: “I’m not sure how you’re going to make it, unless you start throwing goblins off. I’m interested to see what you’re going to do.”
DM: The palanquin continues forward, and it still, the goblins are allowing it to pass. They’re under control but that control is not absolute, it has not blinded them to the fact that hey, this is still our boss. Soon enough the palanquin does make it to the portcullis.

Krackus refuses to come down and Lusiphur hides, but the rest come to the portcullis as the old goblin on the palanquin clambers down, grabs a cane, and hobbles over to lean on the portcullis with a sigh.

DM: “Sorry about this. Not in my control. These are my men, and… they decided to go on their own little adventure. Shaman tells me it’s magic. I’m guessing you people are in a position to agree with that… or not. You look like you got some sort of… this sort of thing about you.”
Krackus: (utterly enchanted by the voice and mannerisms the DM has adopted) This guy is the best!
Hjalmar: “This iz a rhealm spell.”
DM: “Th—that’s the one, yeah. We’re working on it. I am, let me extend to you on behalf of the Kingdom of Thurazor, which I am the great and high lord of. I know it’s not much till we get these guys off your asses, but nevertheless, it’s out there. Uh, give us a couple days.”
Krackus: This guy is so much better than Barack, because if Barack came in, and he was like, “Barack, lord, the army has just walked away!” “DISAVOW!”
DM: Barack’s already got his hobo bindle as in headed for the hills.

The goblin king explains that his people had indeed marched from Thurazor through the Five Peaks. Tam apologizes for the slaughter.

DM: “These things happen. Look, I’m gonna level with ya. I’m thinking that whoever did this wanted to screw over the both of us, or rather all of us… if you consider you a party, me a party, both of us.”
Tam: “Well who stands to gain from you being inconvenienced in this way?”
DM: “Llllots of people.”
Tam: “Who are capable of doing something like this?”
DM: “Now that’s a better question, and I don’t know the answer to that yet. What I’m proposing to you all is that we turn it against them. Once I get this straightened up, I got one of my shamans working up…. One of those things they do that stops spells – dispel. He’s gonna lob that. That should put a stop to this, if it doesn’t I’m not sure what we’ll do, we’ll cover that when we come to it but he says he can do it, I believe it, because I’m kinda short of options here. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is, as part of the official Royal Apology of Thurazor, I would like to invite you guys back to Thurazor to receive the royal treatment. You know, pampering, best and finest we have to offer… I’m… guessing you don’t really want our women, but if you do, we can arrange that.”
Vivi: “Nnnnnn… I think I’ll pass on that.”
DM: “I’m pretty cool with that, I gotta be honest with ya. That would be kinda weird…. But I’m – I’m trying to make a good faith offer here, if that’s what tickles your fancy, I’m good with – anyway, I’m off the track. The point I’m trying to make is, you come back with me, we work together. I’ve got my clout, you’ve got your… ability to withstand an entire army, and we’re going to find out who did this and kick their ass. Whaddya think?”

Krackus discovers he’s part-turtle and retreats into his shell. The DM declines to penalize him for being on the wall.

Tam: If it was Krixxix you’d penalize him.
DM: Yes, because Krixxix acts in bad faith.
Krackus: I’m sorry, I’m – I’m having such excitement, and I’m angry I didn’t go down the wall so I could enjoy it better.
DM: You could always swallow your pride and come down a little.
Krackus: Too late!
DM: You can fly!

Hjalmar rolls Sense Motive, and determines that the goblin king’s motives are sufficiently aligned with theirs to work. Tam tries to point out that he often killed goblins; the king points out plenty of goblins also killed goblins, but the king signs off on any ensuing property damage.

DM: “You’re not getting the, the magnificently wrought stained glass hut, that we put ten thousand gold into making the finest hut in the land. I hope that doesn’t offend you.”
Tam: “You know anything about those golems?”
DM: “…the what what with the what now?”
Hjalmar: “Weh were attacked by a bone goelem.”
DM: “That, uh… w…. okay. I’m really sorry that happened and I assure you had nothing to do with it.” Your Sense Motive is telling you that he’s not covering for the fact that he sent the golem after you, he’s covering for the fact that he doesn’t know what a golem is.

They roll some Knowledges to identify the king: Tie’skur Grae’chur, a goblin who has held his position for an unusually long time for goblins.

Tam: He reminds me of a babe.
Hjalmar: Pig in the City.

They plot to escape as soon as the dispel occurs, and the king hopes they won’t face the Five Peaks goblins. The DM subtly hints that he would love to play a thrallherd again, leading Tam to kill Krackus. The king sort of shrugs at the fact that Hjalmar has goblin thralls.

DM: “Survival of the fittest man. They’re uh, hitching their wagons to your horse, it’s uh, up to your horse to pull ‘em. And by your horse, I mean you. It’s – it’s a metaphor—“
Hjalmar: “I understand it.”
DM: “Okay. I am not certain what you guys know about linguistic arts, I sometimes find myself having to explain these things to… pretty much everyone else…”
Krackus: (holding up a sign) That’s what I have to say about you performance thus far. It’s a 10.
Tam: I was reading Io. What does the moon of Jupiter have to do with this?

The king speculates, with ogre references, that there are political layers involved. Hjalmar ponders if the Sword Mage is involved; the king believes the local troublesome mage is responsible, the Eyeless One!

Krackus: “These bloody mages and their goofy names. I’m sure he has eyes.”
DM: “You may be finding out by the end of all this, let’s be realistic here… But that’s our local power, and as much as this, uh, Blade Mage guy may be a big shot in his own realm, I think there may be a little conflict…”
Hjalmar: I like the little jab.
Tam: So that’s what that feels like!

They shake on the deal. And apparently jerk off…? They ask about the reapers, and the goblin king criticizes Mass Effect 3 by way of an answer. Hjalmar rolls a natural 20 on Knowledge(history) and just takes the book to read the NPC entry.

DM: ‘Anyway, Particle Man hates Triangle Man, but when they have a fight—‘
DM and Hjalmar: ‘Triangle wins.’
DM: ‘Triangle Man. Dah nananana nan na nana – sorry, that’s a little saying we have over in the goblin lands.’
Krackus: Is that a prophecy?
Tam: Makes as much sense as the other one.
Krackus: Pyramid Head hates everyone else…

They realize the Hunner Gold prophecy set to Particle Man is pretty awesome. The king continues to be very sensible about not pissing off the PCs. They settle in to camp in the courtyard until Vivi points out they have a castle and can actually sleep in that. With naught to do but await the dispel, they settle in, and so ends the game!